Oh swiftly glides the bonnie boat; Just parted from the shore, And to the fisher's chorus-note Soft moves the dipping oar.

198 BAILLIE: _Oh Swiftly Glides the Bonnie Boat._

=Boldness.=

In conversation boldness now bears sway, But know, that nothing can so foolish be As empty boldness.

199 HERBERT: _Temple, Church Porch,_ St. 34.

=Bond.=

I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak; I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more.

200 SHAKS.: _M. of Venice,_ Act iii., Sc. 3.

=Bones.=

Cursed be he that moves my bones.

201 SHAKS.: _Shakespeare's Epitaph._

Rattle his bones over the stones!

He's only a pauper, whom nobody owns!

202 THOMAS NOEL: _The Pauper's Ride._

=Books.=

A book! O rare one!

Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment Nobler than that it covers.

203 SHAKS.: _Cymbeline,_ Act v., Sc. 4.

That place that does contain My books, the best companions, is to me A glorious court, where hourly I converse With the old sages and philosophers; And sometimes, for variety, I confer With kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels.

204 BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: _The Elder Brother,_ Act i., Sc. 2.

Books cannot always please, however good; Minds are not ever craving for their food.

205 CRABBE: _The Borough,_ Letter xxiv.

Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good; Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.

206 WORDSWORTH: _Personal Talk._

Deep vers'd in books, and shallow in himself.

207 MILTON: _Par. Regained,_ Bk. iv., Line 327.

Some books are lies frae end to end.

208 BURNS: _Death and Dr. Hornbook._

=Bores.=

Society is now one polish'd horde, Formed of two mighty tribes, the _Bores_ and _Bored._ 209 BYRON: _Don Juan,_ Canto xiii., St. 95.

Again I hear that creaking step!-- He's rapping at the door!-- Too well I know the boding sound That ushers in a bore.

210 J.G. SAXE: _My Familiar._

=Borrowing.=

Neither a borrower nor a lender be, For loan oft loses both itself and friend; And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all,--to thine own self be true; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.

211 SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act i., Sc. 3.

=Boston.=

Solid men of Boston, banish long potations!

Solid men of Boston, make no long orations!

212 CHARLES MORRIS: _American Song. From Lyra Urbanica._

=Bough.=

Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, And burned is Apollo's laurel bough, That sometime grew within this learned man.

213 MARLOWE: _Faustus._

=Bounds.=

There's nothing situate under Heaven's eye, But hath, his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky.

214 SHAKS.: _Com. of Errors,_ Act ii., Sc. 1

=Bounty.=

For his bounty, There was no winter in 't; an autumn 't was, That grew the more by reaping.

215 SHAKS.: _Ant. and Cleo.,_ Act v., Sc. 2

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send; He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear, He gain'd from Heav'n ('t was all he wish'd) a friend.

216 GRAY: _Elegy, The Epitaph._

=Bourn.=

The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns.

217 SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iii., Sc. 1.

=Bower.=

I'd be a butterfly born in a bower, Where roses and lilies and violets meet.